


Creating A Family Christmas

by ConfusedPython



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 06:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9060463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfusedPython/pseuds/ConfusedPython
Summary: The holidays are a stressful time, but the SMH team have each other's back every year





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cakeismyreligion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeismyreligion/gifts).



> This is for [cakeismyreligion](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeismyreligion/)
> 
> Hope everyone has a wonderful, safe holiday. Enjoy my addition to the holiday fics

**Freshman Year (2013):**

**The lead up;**

This is just, well, shit.

Eric had been quite looking forward to staying at Samwell over the winter break, along with all the other sad and sorry souls. But this past week has made it all seem pointless.

The week leading into midterms was never going to be amazing, but added to that was the stress of winter screw and consequently coming out to the team left Eric feeling very strung out and tired to the bone. So when his mother had called and asked if he were coming home for the holidays, he’d said no, because that meant less stress about packing and catching a plane then organising christmas gifts for everyone. So yes, some quiet time to rest sounded like a good idea and if he go to bake in the Haus kitchen then that was just good fortune for those who stayed behind. It also afforded him the opportunity to avoid his books some more in the vain hopes that next semester he’ll get more studying done.

And right now? At this moment. He was standing somewhere between the function center Screw was being held in and the dorms with wet and gross shoes, because this ‘swawesome date Holster and Ransom set him up with has just upchucked their dinner and drinks on Eric’s good leather boots.

“Hey, why don’t we sit down?” Eric asked, his southern hospitality shining bright even through his frustration.

His date just nodded and fell on his ass right there on the sidewalk, looking up at Eric with clear eyes for a moment, then turning his head and throwing up again. This time missing the good boots, not that it made a difference now.

“I’m so sorry ‘bout your shoes,” the other man slurred.

“Don’t worry about them, let’s just get you into bed,” Eric mothered.

“Your bed?”

“I don’t think so,” Eric kneeled down so he could get a better grip on the rugby players massive arm, “Come on, up. You need water, paracetamol and sleep,”

Now, while he might have put on more muscle mass since starting uni, there was no way known Eric would have been able to get his date standing while the man in question was being difficult. He’d given up lifting the man on his own and was unlocking his phone when someone nearby spoke up.

“Bittle?” Of-fucking-course it was Jack, here to chirp him about eating more protein no doubt. “Are you alright there?” And there it was. Jack had stepped close enough to be seen under the street light by now and Eric could see him wrinkle his nose. “What’s that smell?”

“It _was_ the dinner of my date, before he decided that it would go much better with my shoes,” Eric replied, still looking for Ransom’s or Holster’s number to help him out.

“Oh, um,” Jack stopped, looking between Eric and his date for several long moments before making up his mind. Eric had already sent an S.O.S to Shitty, Ransom and Holster and was moving on to Johnson just hoping for anyone who would be sympathetic to his situation.

“Did you want a hand to get him back to the dorms?” Jack asked, already having sidestepped the puke and getting into a position to get the other man standing so they could walk him to his dorms.

“Nah, I’ve already sent texts to Shitty, Ransom, Holster and Johnson,” Not that he doesn’t need a hand, but he didn’t think that he really wanted Jack to be the one lending a hand, “Besides, don’t you have a date to get back to?”

“Nah, she’s heading out early tomorrow. Besides you and I both know that Ransom and Holster will be, busy with their date right about now, Shitty will be too cross faded to be of any help and Johnson will something vague like ‘ _this is a defining part of your characterisation, to interfere is to disturb the whole narrative construct that’s being created_ ’”

“You do a really good Johnson impersonation” is all Eric can think to say, because he’s right on all accounts. Jack just shrugs in return.

“That’s actually something he says to me every couple of weeks” Jack admits, “So do you want to jump on his other side and we’ll get him somewhere better than the sidewalk?” Jack asked looking expectantly at Eric until he got with the program and they managed to get rugby guy on his feet supported between them and moving off towards the dorms.

The pre-drinks Eric had had at the Haus were still warming him nicely so he didn’t notice his thoughts had slipped away someone grabbed harshly at his upper arm. That someone turned out to be Jack, who wasn’t happy with him, which is little change from the norm.

“Eric, are you with me? We need to get this guy up inside” Eric nodded along; this was a perfectly reasonable request but as they ascended the stairs it seemed like Jack was doing all the heavy lifting. When they finally got the man in his own bed, with water and paracetamol on the bedside table Eric allowed himself to be steered out of the room by Jack before his legs gave out under him and he simply fell down in the middle of the hallway. Jack only noticed because he’d had his hand on Eric’s shoulder making sure Eric didn’t bump into anyone else.

Which is where the really terrible thing happened. Jack simply sighed at his fallen teammate, before bending over and picking Eric up like a child. After some shuffling so Eric was clinging to Jack’s front like a koala, Jack started walking.

“Where are you taking me?” Eric asked, or at least he hoped he did, one of Jack’s large hands cupping his ass made it a little difficult to concentrate.

“You need to sleep Bittle and some water won’t hurt either,”

“I can make it to my dorm from here on my own,” Eric defended himself, but it was all for show, the solid feeling of Jack against his chest mixed with the alcohol was making him very sleepy.

“I’m sure you can,” Jack appraised, “But I just want to make sure yeah? Can’t have you falling asleep on your skates or in an exam,”

Eric conceded the point by not responding and was almost asleep when the steady movement of Jack’s footsteps stopped.

“Hang on tight for a moment Bittle, I gotta open your door,” Jack whispered in his ear before Eric was being moved. Jack leant backwards to take Eric’s weight so the arm holding him up could reach for the door to Eric’s room. Once the door had swung open and the light turned on, Jack put his arm back around Eric and stepped inside.

“Which bed is your’s?” Jack asked, but Eric couldn’t keep his eyes open and his mouth was slow to react.

“Bunny,” he replied hoping Jack would see Senor bun and understand, not thinking about the potential for future chirping.

Jack sat Eric down on the edge of his bed gently, where Eric slumped onto his side the moment Jack let go.

“You really should change out of these clothes Bittle,” he nudged, but when Eric just whined in reply Jack took it upon himself to lend a hand. So he pulled off Eric’s ruined boots, setting them in a plastic bag before staring at the man in front of him. Obviously it would be more comfortable to not sleep in dress pants and Bittle was the type of person who would hang up such a nice shirt once taking it off, but they weren’t really close enough friends for that were they?

Eventually Jack decided that it would be no different to the locker room: _don’t look_. So he sat next to Bittle to change his shirt into the well worn soft t-shirt under the pillow, then gently eased back the covers to lie Bittle down before going for it and undoing Bittle’s belt buckle.

The only thing Jack could think of, more uncomfortable than undressing a passed out teammate, is undressing a passed out teammate while thinking of your ex-boyfriend. Which only got worse when his mind decided to catalogue all the similarities between Bittle and Parse. Small stature, blond, good hockey player, big personality and the stubbornness to force Jack out of his figurative hockey padding.

By this point Jack had Bittle more comfortably dressed and under the covers, curled up with the stuffed rabbit that had also been located by the pillow.

Looking at him like this, Jack couldn’t help the protective urge he felt for his smaller teammate and eventually decided that going back to the Haus would be a waste of time. So after filling a drink bottle for each of them in the student kitchens and finding paracetamol on Eric’s desk Jack curled up on Bittle’s roommate’s bed and closed his eyes, falling asleep to the soothing sounds of Bittle’s breathing.

**The Holiday;**

When everyone had been sharing their plans for the winter break it had been decided that anyone staying on or near campus on Christmas Eve/ Christmas Day would be invited to dinner and lunch, with the possibility of doing presents together in the morning of the 25th.

Shitty had proclaimed that while he would not be joining them for the evening feast, he would be there for lunch and anyone who wanted somewhere to sleep on the 24th would welcome to his bedroom. Johnson also jumped on the bandwagon, but Ransom and Holster had already decided to stay put and Jack hadn’t really announced his holiday plans, but he suspected that no one really wanted to stay in his room, let alone _ask_ if they could.

It quickly became apparent that there would be more people than expected staying over and there were two or three people to a room, with Wicks saying that he would just sleep on the couch.

Before he could lose the nerve, Jack accosted Bittle in the kitchen the next day.

“Bittle,” he started before realising he didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say.

“Oh! Jack. Did you need something?” Bittle asked as he scrubbed at a pan in the sink.

“You’re staying here over break aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Bittle said slowly, “Did you not know that?”

“No, I did. But I was wondering, seeing as you’re probably going to insist on feeding everyone,” Jack trailed off as he watched Bittle’s facial expression change.

“You better not be chirping me mister,” he said, point at Jack with the hand holding the wet soapy dishcloth.

“I’m not, I was going to offer you my room. You know, to sleep in” _Maybe this is a bad idea_ Jack thought.

“Oh,” Bittle seemed genuinely surprised, “Um, is this because of what happened at screw or…”

“No,” Jack cuts in before Bittle can finish the sentence. “Uh, I’m going home to Montreal for break, so there’s a bed you can sleep in if you don’t want to bunk in with any of the others,”

“That would be great. But are you sure? I know that you value your privacy,”

“ _You_ value being able to use the kitchen to feed people,” Jack shot back suddenly determined to do something to help the frog. (It had nothing to do with the talk he’d had with Shitty after American thanksgiving that boiled down to the fact that Jack _is_ capable of being a nice person without and not everyone is simply using him for his name). “And I,” Jack stops again, “Well, the offer is there if you want it. I lock my room when I go away, but there’s a spare key under the vanity in mine and Shitty’s bathroom. If you want it,” Jack shrugs and resists the urge to run away after saying so many words.

“That’s Jack. That would be great,” Bittle says gently and the knot of anxiety that had been building up in his chest for the last two days eased greatly and Jack was able to take what felt like his first deep breath in forever.

“Okay,” Jack nods once again, “Well if I don’t see you before I leave tomorrow; Merry Christmas,”

“Merry Christmas to you too Jack,” Bittle said and Jack took his queue to leave quietly.

 

**Sophmore Year (2014):**

**The lead up;**

Jack had been looking forward to this. Even though kegsters weren’t his thing, and this one planned to be even bigger than ever, the energy in the Haus was contagious. Which meant Jack was _willingly_ considering attending this one. (Part of it may have also been because it would be his last year here but even _thinking_ that around Bittle had the great potential for bad side effects).

But Jack had spent the whole day hanging around Bittle. Carrying beer and shopping in from the car, watching Bittle dance around the kitchen so when other people started to drift in, it wasn’t that hard, or too obvious, when he stuck himself to Eric’- _Bittle’s_ side and stayed there the whole night, talking and laughing. It was so easy to talk to Eric, he was hanging off every word and Jack didn’t feel like he was obligated to share anything, but he _wanted_ to.

And halfway through his second beer Jack felt calm and relaxed enough to rest his hand on Eric’s arm and ask for a photo, because if nothing else he wanted to remember how this felt. The light buoyant feeling in his chest making him smile and feel truly happy.

 

Then Kent showed up.

And that was the end of that.

Everyone was distracted enough by the hockey star that Jack was able to slip away unnoticed, even by Eric. But Kenny was never one to let things go, so honestly Jack can’t say that he was too surprised when Kent came through his bedroom door barely an hour later.

“Jackie,” he sighed, leaning very heavily on the door handle.

“What do you want Kent?”

“I know that you read your emails. You know exactly why I’m here,” Kent stepped into the room and shut the door behind him, “Have you decided who you’re going to sign with?”

“I’m still thinking it over,”

“You’ve got no clue?”

“I mean.. It could be MOntreal, it could be L.A. okay? I don’t know,” Jack sighed. Kent took another half step forward before stopping himself.

“..What about Las Vegas?” He asked in a small voice, something very uncommon for Kent.

“I.. I don’t _know_ okay?”

Kent looked at him hard for a long moment, then slowly stepped forward until he was chest to chest with Jack.

“Pars-” Jack started, but stopped and momentarily allowed himself to be pushed towards the door by Kent until his back was resting against it.

“- Kenny, I can’t do this,” Jack whispered gathering the mental strength to push Kent away.

“..Jack come on,” Kent pushed.

“No. I, um.” Jack took a deep breath before trying again. “Kenny-”

“-Zimms,” Kent cut him off, “just fuckign stop thinking for once and listen to me. I’ll tell the GM’s you’re on board and they can free up cap space. Then you can be _done_ with this shitty team. You and me-”

“Get out,” Jack voice was hard.

“-Jack,” Kent said firmly looking him in the eyes, about to retort again. But Jack beat him to the punch.

“You can’t -- you don’t come to my _fucking school unannounced-_ ”

“ _Because you shut me out-_ ”

“- and corner me in my room”

“I’m trying to help-”

“And expect me to do what you want-”

“ **Fuck** , Jack! What do you want me to say? That I miss you? I miss you, ok?” Kent’s voice had gone soft by the end of his speech and he clutched at Jack’s shirt, “I miss you,” He whispered into the crook of Jack’s neck.

“You always say that,” Jack replied. Voice and body still rigid from their fight.

“..huh. Well, shit _okay_ ” Kent replied taking a step back and turning away from Jack to collect his thoughts before spinning back around so that he could look Jack in the eye. “.. You know what, Zimmermann? You think that you’re too fucked up to care about? That you’re not good enough?” Kent’s words were knives piercing Jack’s skin, driving straight into his skin and insecurities. “Everyone already _knows_ what you are but it’s people like me who still _care_ ,”

“Shut up” Jack protested weakly against the onslaught, stepping away from the door to ease the feeling of being trapped. But Kent barreled on like he hadn’t heard.

“You’re scared everyone else is going to find out you’re worthless, right? Oh, don’t worry, just give it a few seasons, Jack. _Trust me_.”

“G-get out of my room,” Jack’s whole body was shaking, but his voice was still strong.

“Fine,” Kent replied airily, “Shut me out again,”

“And stay- stay away from my team.”

“Why Afraid I’ll tell them something?” Kent smirked.

“ _Leave, Parse_ ,” Jack commanded as Kent finally opened the door where Bittle was picking his key off the ground. _How long had he been there?_ A voice in Jack’s head asked, but it was ignored by Kent clearing his throat before delivering his final blow.

“Hey, well. Call me if you reconsider or whatever. But good luck with the Falconers. ..I’m sure that will make your dad proud,” He said without even a glance behind him.

Jack watched him go, then had to hide before the shaking of his body and the voice in his head sent him into a panic attack.

He managed to get his door closed before his legs gave out and he collapsed against back of the door.

But Eric was still out in the hallway. And he’d no doubt heard a large chunk of the fight with Parse. He’d definitely seen Kent’s last ditch attempt to drive knives under his skin. Bittle would never talk to him again. Not with what Kent had said about him. Because it was true, wasn’t it?

The knocking on wood scared him enough to jar him out of his thoughts.

“Jack?” Eric asked. But Jack wasn’t in any state to talk to him, or anyone at the moment. “I know that you probably don’t want to talk right now. But we’ve got your back, yeah?” Eric was silent for moment before saying. “Good night Jack. Get some rest. I’ll make waffles in the morning, if you want some,” Then Jack heard Eric’s door close across the hall and the tears started to fall. He dragged himself into bed, wrapped himself in his blanket and fell asleep to the thought of eating waffles with maple syrup and strawberries somewhere where no one, read: Kent, could hurt him ever again. His last clear thought was how strange his safe place seemed to be a kitchen with Eric’s cooking.

**The Holiday;**

Eric was glad about going home these holidays.

Not because he didn’t love spending the break with the boys last year, but he’d missed all the usual Christmas prep with him mama and all the craziness that went along with the Bittle Family Christmas on Christmas day.

When Eric got in the front door in Madison his mama was calling him to work in the kitchen.

“Suze, let the boy put his bags away,” Coach called back to her but Eric just smiled at his father.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” Eric called back to her before facing his father, “You know I feel more comfortable in the kitchen Coach,” Eric told him, “I’ll come in and watch the game later yeah?” Eric took off towards his bedroom before his father could answer.

He gently pushed open his old bedroom door. Nothing had changed since the summer, or high school really. The sheets had been changed, the desk cleared of all but the cook books he’d left behind and the shelf of trophies had been dusted off. But it no longer felt like Eric’s room, the way his room in the Haus felt like his. He wouldn’t tell his mama that though, the tears would never stop.

So he dropped his bag on the end of the neatly made bed and went to help his mama with whatever she was baking at the moment.

He stepped into the kitchen to find his mama covered in a fine dusting of flour and stirring a pot on the stove.

“Hello Dicky,” she said, knowing the moment he stepped in the door with some parent sixth sense.

“Hello mama,” Eric greeted her, stepping forward to wrap his arms around her.

“Happy to be back home?” she asked.

“Always,” Eric replied with a laugh as he grabbed his apron off the top of the fridge and slipped it over his head.

“Excellent, there’s gingerbread in the fridge, get rolling,” she directed.

“Yes ma’am,” Eric joked with a mock salute and set to work.

“I saw that young man, I’ll have no sass from you in this kitchen, do you hear me?” Suzanne asked, turning to face her son, if only to wave the wooden spoon at him.

“Yes mama,” Eric replied before he mother was wrapping her arms around him.

“I’m so happy to see you again baby,” she whispered into the crook of his neck.

“Happy to be home,” Eric whispered back.

“Well you get back to that dough before it gets warm,” Suzanne scolded.

“And what about you leaving filling on the stove?” Eric chirped back and the tension bled out of the room when Suzanne ignored his statement in favour of tending to said pie filling. The sound of Christmas music filled the air and Eric let himself relax into the feeling of being home with his parents again.

It was hours later, long after the football game had finished, and tray upon tray of biscuits were cooling all over the kitchen bench and dining table that Eric’s phone beeped with a text.

 **_Our fearless leader:_ ** _Thanks for the biscuits Bittle_

Eric smiled softly at his phone and typed out a reply before he realised what he was doing.

_Anytime Jack, Merry Christmas._

Moments later his phone beeped with a reply.

 **_Our fearless leader:_ ** _Merry Christmas to you too Bittle_

 

**Junior Year (2015):**

**The lead up;**

Eric was pacing in Lardo’s room when Shitty got in late on a friday night. They both stared at each other for several long moments before speaking at the same time.

“You’re not Lardo,”

“You’re not Lardo,” They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer before laughing.

“Excellent observation skills you got there,” Eric chirped, “We’ll make a lawyer out of you yet,”

“Then I guess now is a good time to practise my conversation skills,” Shitty replied, “What has you pacing in the bedroom of the best team manager in the world?”

“I hoping to talk to her about some stuff,”

“Anything I can help with?” Shitty asked, taking a seat on the edge of Lardo’s unmade bed.

“Maybe,” Eric replied slowly, joining Shitty on the bed, “But I don’t want to have to explain more than once…”

“That’s fine bro,” Shitty replied.

“So what are you doing here? I didn’t think you were coming until tomorrow?” Eric asked and was surprised when Shitty didn’t immediately start laying out how his last three weeks lead to him being here. “Shits? Everything alright?” Eric asked concerned.

“It’s fine. But, uh…” Shitty trailed off. Bitty hummed when Shitty had yet to follow that up after almost a minute of silence.

“Is this one of those cases where I ask no questions and get told no lies?” Eric asked softly, nudging Shitty with his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Shitty replied and Eric was shocked at how _broken_ Shitty sounded, but he recovered in a moment already back to chirping Eric, “But for your kindness I’ll refrain from asking for deets about why you and Jack disappeared so quickly on Thanksgiving.

“You’ve got yourself a deal there Mr. Crappy,” Eric replied with a straight face before turning to watch Shitty’s reaction and they both lost the plot.

They were still sporadically giggling twenty minutes later when Lardo appeared at the door.

“I thought I’d put a ban on hockey players cuddling in my bed?” she demanded from the open door hand on her hip and art supply bag hanging from her shoulder. That explained where she’d been at least.

Shitty struggled through his giggles to get out, “Didn’t we add an amendment to that ban where it was allowed provided you were invited?”

“We did,” Lardo conceded, “but I’ve had a long week so today it shall only be allowed if I can pull out the bong,” she said, stepping into the room, closing the door behind her and putting her bag on the desk.

“Only if you agree to share,” Eric’s voice replied from where his face was hidden in Lardo’s pillow.

Shitty shot Lardo an alarmed look across the room but she shook her head at him and he resolved to add that to their list of things to talk about later.

“So Bitty Bits,” Lardo said after she’s retrieved her bong from the bottom drawer of her dresser and joined the two men on her bed coercing Eric between herself and Shitty and covering them all with the quilt from the foot of her bed. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here tonight?” She asked in that gentle way of hers.

“Can I have a hit first?”

“Is this something to do with Jack?” She prodded, “Because I’m not going to let underaged teens get high to avoid their problems,”

“Pretty sure there is no legal age for pot, since it’s illegal,” Eric informed her, “But no? It’s not something directly related to Jack, I think,”

Lardo gave him a stern look before offering him the bong. Eric took a deep drag and only coughed slightly as he exhaled.

“Thanks,” Eric murmured and snuggled in further before speaking again. “I’m going to do it,” he said softly.

As Shitty opened his mouth to ask what Bitty was going to do he caught Lardo’s gaze that said if he wanted to sleep here tonight, he’d be keeping his mouth shut.

“I’m going to come out to my parents,”

“Is that why this is kinda related to Jack?” Shitty asked, once Lardo was no longer giving him the stink eye over Bitty’s head.

“Yeah,” Eric nodded, “We’ve talked about it and Jack isn’t anywhere near ready to come out to the world yet, but…” Eric took a deep breath to steady himself. “You guys already know and Jack’s parents are so supportive of us. And it’s something I should have told them forever ago. I don’t know if I’ll tell them about Jack yet. We’ll see how they take the news I guess but I feel like they deserve to find out from me instead of ESPN or whatever news station deems that worthy news when it hits,”

Lardo silently offered Bitty the bong again while she and Shitty processed what they had just heard.

“I know you’ve heard me say this before,” Shitty started, “But you should never feel pressured to come out. It’s something that you should do on your own time, not because you feel you have to,”

“You’ve heard Jack’s game plan, haven’t you?” Eric asked.

“Vaguely,” Lardo spoke.

“He wants his hockey to speak for itself first,” Shitty answered, “Which I don’t completely` understand, his hockey is amazing, but I can respect,”

“There are plans already in place,” Eric added, “George, the GM, knows at least that Jack is in a relationship with a man. If the Falconers make it to the top four teams in the Stanley cup finals, Jack is going to tell the team, if he hasn’t already. If they win the Cup then he’s said that he’s prepared to come out to the world,”

Shitty couldn’t help but notice how emotionless Bitty sounded.

“Are you happy with that?” he asked softly, wrapping his arms around Bitty.

“I mean, it’s like you said, I understand where he’s coming from with letting his hockey speak for itself. But we haven’t spoken about what would happen if the Falconers don’t make it that far,”

“Is that a conversation the two of you need to have?” Lardo asked.

“Not right now,” Eric replied, “But if we’re still together near the end of next season and the Falconers aren’t doing so good then I think _I_ would need us to start talking about contingency plans,”

“So is telling your parents part of those backup plans?” Lardo asked.

“No,” Eric said emphatically, “At least I don’t think so. I’m just so sick of hiding so much of myself,”

“You’re being very silent over there Shitty,” Lardo said.

“Yeah,” Shitty acknowledged, “I just have a couple questions and it seemed rude to try and, uh, redirect the conversation,”

“I’m not giving you deets right now Shits,” Eric groaned.

“No! Not like that,” Shitty said, pulling back from their cuddle pile to look Bitty in the eye. “Just, what makes you think that you and Jack won’t be together in 18 months? Now I know that’s a long time away, but you both seem so willing to put in the effort to make things work between you,” Shitty could still see the doubt in Eric’s eyes and couldn’t stop himself from continuing. “It’s just, Jack has been speaking about you a lot since you both came out to us and I don’t know if you know this, but he is definitely in this for the long haul with you,”

Lardo had been looking at Shitty with soft eyes while he spoke, but her gaze hardened the moment she realised that Eric had tears falling.

“Bits?” She asked, wrapping her own small arms around Eric as another layer of comfort.

“He really is go big or go home isn’t he?” Bitty sobbed softly, but Shitty had been watching his face and could see the grin Eric couldn’t hide even if he’d tried. “You had another question?” Bitty asked, when he opened his eyes to find Shitty still staring at him.

“Just, with your amazing communication skills, I’m wondering why you’re telling us, not Jack?”

Bitty suddenly wouldn’t meet Shitty’s eye.

“We’d talked briefly about this. Jack said that he would support me when or if I told my parents. But doing it over Christmas, I don’t know if I’d be able to stop him from coming down even for a couple days and it would just feel like more pressure to tell them, which I don’t really want,”

“So you’re not going to tell him at all?” Lardo said.

“I’ve told him I was giving some serious thought into doing it soon, as in before I graduate but we haven’t discussed it more than that,”

“So do you need to have another conversation with Jack?” Shitty asked gently.

“About me coming out to my parents?” Bitty clarified, “No, he’s already said that I can tell them about us. But if I’m just telling them about me then it doesn’t matter, but he just wants to support me and I think that’s just gotten to me tonight,”

“How do you mean it’s gotten to you?” Lardo asked.

“Just how supportive he is has made me realise that if I don’t break up with him, we’re probably going to get married,” Shitty looked terrified at the thought of Jack and Bitty breaking up, “And I could never break up with him,” Bitty sobbed loudly into Lardo’s shoulder.

“One more small question,” Shitty said quietly, wrapping his arms around Bitty and Lardo having put the bong on the floor, “Is that really a problem?”

“Not in the least,” Bitty replied.

 

**The Holiday;**

When he saw his mother at the airport Eric made the decision that he was not leaving for Samwell until he had told both his parents he was gay. Seeing his mother’s smiling face while making that decision made something settle in his chest and he could breath easy for the first time in what felt like months. And then he was wrapped up in the storm his mother surrounded herself with, catching up on family gossip and recipes to try.

They had just passed the sign saying the turn off towards home was two miles off when his mother stopped her rambling.

“So what news do you have? I could see it on your face at the airport,”

“Oh, um…” Eric trailed off looking down at his hands, he haddn’t expected this to happen so quickly. But his mouth decided that this was as good a time as any before his brain could stop him. “I’m gay,”

“Okay,” Suzanne nodded, “And what’s your boys name?” she asked.

“What?” Eric asked sharply.

“Sweetie, I’m your mother. I notice these things. I figured you’re only telling me now because you have someone special in your life and wanted to share that with us,”

“Oh,” Eric huffed in surprise. “Does uh, does coach know?” Eric asked tentatively.

“Your daddy is the one who figured it out darling, all I did was tell him not to force you to tell us. I knew you’d come to us in time,”

Eric felt like he was in shock. Not only were his parents okay with him being gay, but they had even gotten used to the idea of him having a boyfriend? It just seemed like too much.

“Dicky? Is something wrong?” Suzanne asked, gently placing her hand on Eric’s arm.

“No mama,” Eric shook his head, “Everything is perfect,” he smiled softly, before pulling out his phone to see the texts from Jack from before his plane took off.

 **Jack♡:** _Have a good and safe flight Eric._ _  
_ _I love you._   
Text me when you land, I wanna talk to you tonight.

“So are you going to tell me his name, or do I have to guess?” She asked raising her eyebrows at him. “I can see it on your face baby,” she said when he started to splutter. Eric sighed deeply before slumping in defeat.

“It’s Jack, mama,” Eric told her, “And you can’t go telling anyone other than coach,” Eric started before his mother could get all excited. “He’s not out to anyone yet and it could ruin his career to say anything like that right now,”

Suzanne pursed her lips.

“What is it mama?” Eric asked.

“As much as I adore that boy, are you sure that he is worth going back into the closet is worth it?”

“I’m not back in the closet mama,” Eric started, “The team knows I’m gay, it’s not a secret at Samwell. But Jack’s parents know that we’re dating. So do Lardo, and uh, Mr. Crappy,” Eric smirked while his mother nodded her head at him not swearing in front of her. “And I was planning on telling you and coach soon anyway. Before the end of this season at the latest,”

“Why?”

“Jack’s organised it all with the Falconers management and Georgia,” Eric took a deep breath, “If the Falconers win the Stanley cup, Jack is going to come out,”

“That’s awfully brave Dicky, will you be coming out with him?”

“I’m already out mama, but yes. We- Jack plans to come out as a couple,”

Suzanne nodded and they drove in silence except for the radio for several more miles.

“And what happens if they don’t win baby?”

“We haven’t really discussed that,” Eric said slowly. “I think that barring winning the Cup, Jack wants to wait until I finish college before making any changes to the current plan,”

“Is he really in for the long haul already darling?” Suzanne asked.

“I think that’s just the way Jack is. 110% or nothing at all,”

“I’ll spare you the grilling about the details about how you two got together until we get home, so you only have to tell the story once,”

“My hero,” Eric mocked.

“So when do we get to talk to your boyfriend?” Suzanne probed.

“We’ve been skyping as much as we can,” Eric sighed, “We can call him tomorrow after his morning skate,”

“See? That wasn’t so hard now was it baby?”

 **_I love you too honey._ ** **_  
_ ** **_I’ll be home soon. Also mama and coach want to skype tomorrow._ ** **_  
_ ** ****_I told them about us._

 

**Seinor Year (2016):**

**The lead up;**

Jack was decidedly not happy with hockey at the moment. It wasn’t something that happened very often, or at all really, but today it was. And everybody knew it.

It had started a month ago when Jack and Eric were comparing their schedules for the Christmas period. Jack wanted to be the one to take Eric to his last screw, even if they had to be friends for appearances sake.

After looking at Jack game dates in December, it would be close, but he would be able to make it up there as it was the tail end of a roadie, before playing at home over Christmas.

BUt here they were, after a win over the Caps on their home turf. Stuck in a minor media and fan swarm, looking despairingly at the departures screens showing that their flight had been delayed by two hours.

So maybe it was airports that Jack was pissed at at the moment. Whosoever fault it was, it meant that Jack didn’t get to spend this time with Bitty and with already not having seen each other for weeks, it was really wearing on Jack.

“Why you no call her Zimmboni?” Tater asked, dropping into the seat next to Jack.

“Huh?” Jack shot Tater a confused look. He really didn’t want to deal with this right now.

“Face look sad. Tonight date night, yes? Call her. Tell her you miss her. She be understanding,”

Jack may have also been overreacting a little bit.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack nodded, pulling out his phone and fiddling with it, “I’ll do that,” he muttered as he walked away to somewhere more private.

“Hi sweetie,” Eric started chattering about the frogs the moment he picked up the phone.

“Bits,” Jack whispered into the receiver, but Eric heard it and paused.

“What’s wrong darling?” He asked gently, “Shouldn’t you be getting on a plane soon?”

Jack shook his head before realising that Eric couldn’t see him through the voice call.

“No, Bits, the plane has been delayed,” Jack could feel the pinpricks of tears behind his eyes, “But the time it gets here and we leave, I won’t make it in time to take you to screw,”

“Oh honey, these things happen. Don’t stress about it,” Eric brushed it off.

“But I wanted to see you,” Jack whispered hoarsely, finally allowing a tear to fall.

“I know Jack, I wanted to see you too. How about you text me when you get home and we’ll skype? And I’ll be coming down this weekend for two whole weeks. Everything will be okay sweetheart,”

“But this is your last screw. I wanted to be the one take you this year,”

“I would much rather stay home and skype with you darling, you know that. But how about we have our own screw, at your place for our friends over break?” Eric always knew what to say to make him feel better. He _would_ much rather do something more private, where he knows all the people around him and this way he and Eric wouldn’t have to pretend that they were just friends.

“Our place, Bits, our place,” Eric’s golden laugh rang out from the phone.

“I love you too sweetheart. Now go celebrate your victory with your teammates in some crappy airport lounge and I will talk to you on skype when you get home,”

Maybe airports weren’t all bad.

 

**The Holiday;**

Eric had been up for a few hours already by the time Jack came into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Bitty.

“It’s so early,” Jack whispered into his neck causing Eric to laugh.

“Usually it’s me that’s saying that baby,”

“You did so much prep work yesterday. Come back to bed for a little longer,” Jack asked gently pressing kisses along Eric’s should and up his neck to the underside of his chin.

“I need to make sure I’ve got enough for everybody,” Eric fussed fighting back the shivers from Jack’s kisses.

“Everyone is going to be rolling home anyway. You have enough food for today and tomorrow you’ll have more helpers who will be fighting to take home whatever is left over,” Jack argued, “No one is going to fault you for having an extra hour or two in bed,”

“You just want snuggles,” Eric pointed out, but it was just for show. Having Jack hold him like this was enough encouragement to go back to bed, even if just for an hour.

“I want _your_ cuddles, not Shitty’s crappy homebrand ones,”

“Alright, let me put this dough in the fridge and wash my hands and I’ll be right there,”

As Eric watched Jack stumble off towards their bedroom his eye caught the clock and he saw it was not even seven thirty. Maybe Jack was right. He didn’t need to be up this early and all the prep work had been done. They could lay in bed until the first guests arrived and Eric still wouldn’t need to worry about the food.

“I thought you’d gotten lost,” Jack mumbled when Eric crawled back into bed to spoon him from behind.

“Nope, just getting comfortable enough to snuggle with the best boyfriend ever for the next couple hours,”

“Hmm,” Jack reached for Eric’s hand that had been resting on his hip and pulled it up to his chest, spreading his legs slightly to allow Eric to tangle their legs together, “I think you’re the best boyfriend ever,”

 

The doorbell woke Eric up at 10 o’clock according to the alarm clock. Jack wasn’t in bed next to him anymore, but the sheets were still warm, so he couldn’t have been too long gone. Eric slowly dragged himself out of bed reaching for Jack’s Falconers jersey to wear over his trackies and padded out to see who had been at the door.

Of all the people Eric was expecting, Tater wasn’t one of them.

“Your girl is cooking yes? I meet her. Make sure she good for Zimmboni,” Tater declared as Eric walked into view of the foyer area.

“Itty Bitty!” Tater exclaimed, “What is you doing here. Zimmboni say friends no here until later?”

Eric glanced at Jack before answering.

“I came down early to help him get ready. This place was a mess when I got here,” Eric laughed.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Jack defended, “It just wasn’t very, christmassy,”

“I rest my case,” Eric replied, “Now would you like a hot drink?” Eric asked of Tater, “Coffee or tea?”

“Oh! You have coffee from good coffee shop?”

“Yeah,” Jack answered. “I’ll get it. It’s on the top shelf,” he winked at Eric as he passed and Eric reflexively smiled back at him.

“So Itty Bitty,” Tater started making use of his inside voice for the first time today, “Why you wearing Jack’s jersey? Is not meant for Jack’s girl?” As far as Eric could tell he seemed politely confused.

“I don’t know what to tell you Tater. Jack doesn’t have a girl. And Jack lent this to me when I realised I’d forgotten a sleep shirt,”

Tater hummed but said no more before following after Jack to get his coffee. Eric took a moment to calm his racing heart before heading for the kitchen himself to make sure he got his coffee.

Today seemed to be the day of eavesdropping, although part of that could be the Tater’s voice carries.

“... that you have no girl. Why you no tell me? I stop chirps,”

“Well you _were_ partly right Alexi, I am in a relationship,”

“How can you be in relationship but not have… oh,” Tater went quiet for a long moment. “Jack. Alexi very sorry for his mistake. Can I be meeting your partner too, to be saying sorry?”

“You’re forgiven Tater,” Eric stepped into the kitchen and moved to take his coffee from Jack.”You are not the only person to make that mistake,”

Tater looked between them with wide eyes.

“Tater, this is my boyfriend, Eric,” Jack introduced them, wrapping his arm around Eric’s waist and Eric let himself be pulled in.

“Am very pleased to meet you,” Tater nodded seriously before a grin spread across his face. “You are baker, yes? If I give you recipe, you make biscuits like мама?”

Eric laughed, “I think I can manage that. Now you two go sit down and I'll get breakfast on. What did you want this morning Jack?”

“Do we still have some of that pie from last night?”

“Yes,” Eric replied slowly, “but neither of you better mention this to your nutritionist,” The two NHL stars cheekily mimed zipping their lips and dug into the pie Eric placed in front of them.

Only minutes later there was more noise at the front door.

“I smell pie!” Shitty’s voice called and the man himself appeared at the door barely a moment later.

“That you do, but you’ll have to wait until everyone else arrives to get some now,” Eric tells him as he rinses his plate.

“But Bitty,” Shitty started begging, “They’re having pie,”

“I made that pie for Jack,” Eric told him in a level tone, “You’d have to ask him for a piece,”

Eric couldn't help but crack a grin at the way Jack wrapped his arms protectively around his pie when Shitty turned his puppy dogs off Eric.

“But Jack…”

“How about we make a deal,” Jack interrupted, “You wait for your pie and I don’t force you to wear more than boxers this whole weekend,”

Tater threw wild looks between Jack, Shitty and Eric before relaxing when Eric smiled at him.

“You drive a hard bargain Zimmermann, but! I’ll take it,” Shitty declared and started to strip off right there in the kitchen.

“Excuse you!” Eric called, “There will be no stripping down in my kitchen thank you very much. Go on. You and Lardo have dibs on the spare bedroom. You can put your clothes in there,” Eric herded before turning on Jack. “Why would you make that bet with him? He was going to get pie anyway?”

“But this is my pie,” Jack replied. Eric’s responding sigh was covered by Tater’s booming laugh.

“You two like old married couple,”

“They are an old married couple!” Shitty shouted through the house. “Come Tater! Tell me about what Jack gets up to at the rink. We’ll leave the lovebirds to their nesting,” Shitty mocked as he dragged Tater out to the lounge room just in time for the doorbell to ring.

“Can you answer that Shitty?” Bitty called.

“Mashkov!” Twin shouts rang out through the house.

“We’re not going to see any of them for the rest of the night,” Jack muttered to Eric.

“So long as they keep each other busy I’m not going to complain,” Eric told him.

 

Later that afternoon Eric had the coffee table laden down with food and was guarding it from his hungry friends.

“No! We’re not eating until everyone gets here,”

“Lardo is like two minutes away and she would be fine with us starting,” Shitty whined.

“Chowder is on the phone,” Jack approached with his phone, “They’re not coming,”

“What?!” Eric whirled around.

“Just take the phone and talk to your adopted son,” Jack waved the phone in his face, “I’ll guard the food until everyone gets here,”

“Thank you darling,”

“FOINNNE!” Holster shouted.

“You’ll redact that if you want to eat tonight,” Eric called before answering the phone, “Hello Chowder what’s this I hear about you not coming down?”

“Alright, I’m here!” Lardo burst through the door, “Where’s the food?”

“We can’t have any yet,” Ransom complained, “Bitty wanted to wait for you and now he’s on the phone with Chowder. The frogs aren’t coming down,”

“Where am I sitting?” She asked surveying the room.

“Wherever you can pull up a seat,” Jack answered, “We don’t have enough dining chairs so we decided to do dinner in here so there was room for everyone,”

Lardo met his eye with a smirk. “ _We_ ,” she chirped causing everyone else to giggle.

Jack sighed, “Yes _we_. I have no claim over the kitchen,”

“I tell you,” Tater said, “Married couple,”

“No one is disagreeing with you Tater,” Holster nodded solemnly.

“Ok, that’s all sorted. Oh Lardo you’re here,” Eric exclaimed and wrapped his arms around her.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world Bits,”

“Well everyone take a seat and we’ll get started,”

“Before we eat, I would like to propose a toast,” Shitty stood. “Thank you all for coming tonight to spend this time together as family and friends. But this is not only a celebration of friendship, but of another year of survival and successes. So thank you all for being here and I look forward to seeing you all again next year,”

“Hear hear!” Ransom and Holster shouted in unison and everyone took a mouthful of their drink, except for Shitty who finished his off.

 

It was nearing midnight when everyone had settled down. The remaining food had been packaged and put in the fridge. The dishes were washed and dried and all the blankets had been dragged into the lounge room in a fit of genesis from Shitty to build a fort to sleep in. It didn’t work too well, but Eric was curled up against Jack and snuffling in his sleep. Shitty and Lardo were still talking quietly on the couch. Ransom and Holster had fallen asleep where they’d been talking to Tater. Jack would try to get a photo of the three of them if doing so wouldn’t disturb Eric.

Jack settled back down against Eric and let the warm feeling inside him grow until the happy feeling filled his soul and he nodded off to sleep, surrounded by the most important people in his life.

 


End file.
